


New Year, Old Friend

by adeclanfan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeclanfan/pseuds/adeclanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first attempt at OUAT fanfic. I've never seen this pairing before so I'm starting it. Neal's drunk and sulking. Hook's trying to help in his own special way. Implied relationship from Baelfire's teenage years, but in my head it's not underage. warning: m/m explicit, one off.  Written for Writing Exercise #5 (Jan 2014) at RogueAdultWritingRefuge on dreamwidth.org</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year, Old Friend

"You've looked better, Mate," Hook stated. Pulling a flask from his pocket, he offered it to the other man, "I find rum helps."

Neal blinked up at him, then his gaze lowered to the pirate's hand and the proffered libation. "Had 'nough already," he mumbled, sullen and disagreeable, but still pretty much able to sit upright at a table and scowl into his drink in the tavern. 

"We'll get Emma and your son back." It wasn't meant as idle chatter, the Pirate stated it as fact. 

"So you can steal her away from me..." Neal rumbled. 

Hook smiled, "I don't need to steal fair Emma. You haven't HAD her in over a decade. Threw her away... all by yourself." 

The smirk on his face was what lit Neal's fuse. It didn't matter that the smug bastard was right about the mistakes he made with Emma. His rum numbed brain was aching to break something or hurt someone, replace his emotional pain with physical action. Do something to prove he wasn't as helpless as he felt sitting in a tavern in the Enchanted Forest while Emma and Henry lived out their happily ever after without HIM. 

Hook leaned into him, his breath hot against Neal's ear and cheek. "In case you hadn't noticed, Emma's into the rough, roguishly handsome Pirate types, now... not that you can blame her for her good taste..." 

He never got to finish the thought, because Neal exploded like a powder keg and they were crashing through the rough hewn table and tumbling onto the floor, throwing punches and snarling all the way. 

After a few upturned benches and shouts from other customers scrambling to get out of the way, the pub's owner stepped up, bucket swinging, and drenched them both with cold rainwater. The shock of it caused them to stop fighting for a beat, cursing in drunken protest. It proved enough time for five burly men to get them apart and uprighted. 

"Get these two out of my sight. I run a nice place, no drunks or fighting allowed."

The villagers half dragged, half carried them to the edge of the forest.

Hook smiled, letting himself be mostly carried along, "Feeling better, Mate?"

"I am NOT your Mate," Neal growled, struggling to get his arms free from the men holding him. "We are not Mates... Pirate!" 

Their escorts dumped the two men into the thick pine needles collected at the edge of the dirt road. A large, hairy man sneered down at them, "Boss says you two aren't welcome, anymore, until you replace the table." 

With that, the men turned and left them alone, taken out like so much rubbish. 

Hook stretched out on his back on the cold ground, tucking his good hand behind his head. "What time is it, do you think?"

Automatically, Neal looked down at his wrist watch. "Few minutes to midnight. Does it matter anymore?"

Hook rolled over onto his side, and the smile returned, but it wasn't a happy smile, or even a particularly nice one, "Happy New Year." 

"What 'd ya mean?" Neal's brain was still thick from too much alcohol and his anger. 

"In Emma's world, it's nearly midnight on December 31st..." Hook rolled onto his belly and crawled to where Neal was curled up and clutching his aching head at the same time. "New years. New starts..." 

Neal scowled, dark eyes hard as obsidian, "So what?"

"I, for one, plan to make this new year an interesting and productive one." He inched his way beside the younger man, slowly. 

"Screw you, Hook."

As if on cue, Hook tackled him, kissing him throughly, then flipped Neal onto his back and pinned his wrists above his head. Face to face, chest to chest, and most importantly, groin to groin, the older man circled his hips against Neal's. 

The answering bulge he felt wasn't something in Neal's pocket, or his own wishful thinking. His lips brushed Neal's ear. "I think the operative term should be screw you, Baelfire. I'd be willing, for old time's sake."

"Stop... calling... me... that. Not Baelfire, Baelfire was a stupid kid. I'm 'n ADULT. Name's Neal, now."

Hook met his eyes, smirking, "As you wish... Neal." He shifted his weight so the arm with the hook was across Neal's chest holding him down, freeing his other hand to snake it's way between their bodies. "And I'm aware you are an adult. You've grown into a fine man. Smart. Most of the time. And adorable when intoxicated."

Hook fumbled with the fastenings on their pants, freeing both their cocks with practiced movements. Neal bucked into his hand eagerly, but it took a moment to get them lined up in his grip so he could stroke them both with the one movement. 

"Been a long time since we did this..." Hook sighed. "Kinda missed our fights. And our making up."

Neal groaned, deep in his chest, "I really hate you." 

His breath was hot against Hook's jaw, the reek of alcohol making Hook's eyes water. "You don't hate me; You just think you do." Both men were breathing heavily, climaxes building to the tipping point, but Hook was better at holding off. 

Neal grunted and hot semen spilled over Hook's fingers and cock. "No, 'm pretty sure I hate you."

Hook let himself go, chuckling through the spasms of pleasure. "I've missed you, Mate." He pressed a kiss to Neal's temple before he rolled off of him and sat up. 

"That got the year off to a good start." He stood and fastened his pants. "Do I need to walk you home? Or do you think you can be trusted make it on your own?" A glance back at Neal showed he was snoring softly, cock still exposed. "Sure, great, make the one handed pirate carry you home. You're gonna owe me for this, Mate."


End file.
